


Feral Cat Meets Kittens; Becomes Therapist

by Popjeckdoom



Series: Echoes And Sources [3]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug, Rurouni Kenshin, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Adrien gets a sword, Adrien is a sweet boi but really should stop talking to strangers, Crack Treated Seriously, Echoes Of Your Silence, F/M, Feed Adrien Agreste, Fluff and Humor, France - Freeform, Gen, Hawk Moth is Gabriel Agreste, Immortal Kenshin, Kenshin is Tired, Kenshin's ninja skills, Parties, Social Elite, The Greens are mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-01-05 21:23:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21215288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Popjeckdoom/pseuds/Popjeckdoom
Summary: Kenshin Himura, now 436 years old, visits Paris in honor of an old friend. He meant to see the sights, attend a party, and get a new suit. Then, he meets the two Heroes of Paris.He's sucked into a whirlwind of identities, teen romance, and magic hoo-doo; not for the first time, but now he's in charge of two under trained super children who really just need someone to hug them.





	1. In Which An Old Man Meets a Cat

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Everyone :D  
This is part of a series, between chapters Eleven and Twelve of the first work in the series, Echoes of Your Silence. Read Chapter Eleven before coming to this story!!
> 
> And, if your interested, we have a Discord: https://discord.gg/6fDn8Rv Come say Hi!

**Oxford, England, St. Leonard’s Church, June Seventh, 2286**

  
  


“Happy Birthday, my friend.” 

Kenshin’s shoes sunk into the wet grass in front of Henry Green’s grave, and there was a pitter-patter of rain on his umbrella. The old gravestones of both Henry and his Wife were faded with time, although Kenshin had paid a hefty penny about a century ago to have them refurbished a bit. It was a bit startling to see them after such a long time in the wind and weather. 

“I’m afraid this will be my last visit for quite awhile,” Kenshin continued, “The quirk wars are long over, official heroes defend the Greens and the remainder of London in place of what I could offer, and many of your descendants have actually moved to other countries. Kenny the third and his wife actually moved to Japan, if you can believe it,” Kenshin jokes. There is no reply, as expected, but Kenshin feels as though Henry would understand.

There is a long silence while Kenshin gathers his thoughts. The rain gets heavier as he stands there, like something is sad to see him go, but Kenshin is unswayed.

“I miss home, my friend,” Kenshin finally admits. “But I’ll back someday, I think, to visit.”

But first, he has things to do.

* * *

**Paris, France, June Tenth, 2286**

Kenshin arrived in Paris with little to no difficulty, carrying suitcases of papers and clothing into a hotel room near the center of the city. He’d been told at the front desk that weapons and valuables should not be left in the rooms, so he’d been forced to carry his beloved sword around with him all day. It was draped over his back in a black canvas sheath meant for kendo swords, and he hadn’t gotten a strange look for it yet, so he assumed it was fine how it was.

He spent the morning wandering around major landmarks; the Louvre, the Arc de Triomphe, etc. It wasn’t until noon when he reached the Eiffel tower, the most recognisable structure in France. It was a hot, busy day, and it took him nearly an hour to get past the lines just to get to the elevator. Once on the first floor of the tower, Kenshin started having a much better day. The breeze was much better up here, where there were fewer buildings to block it from reaching him. The view was amazing, the city spread out before him, and he only had to fight his way forward for a minute to see it. He was trying to find one of the other attractions he’d seen today when a bright red blur swung past him, and the screams from below became clear.

Kenshin was no stranger to the problems of modern Paris. Occasionally, the new superheroes of the city, Ladybug and Chat Noir, would end up on the news in England. He’d only heard good things, and not one person in Paris had a bad thing to say, it seemed. The two heroes were admired; praised. Every store here had a piece of hero merchandise in it. Honestly, Kenshin was impressed. It takes a lot of perseverance to be the lone guardians of an entire city; especially one as large as Paris.

Of course, hearing about the heroes and seeing them in action were two different things all together.

  
  
  


Selena (Five and a half years old!) was  _ so mad! _ Mummy hadn’t listened to her  _ all day _ , and her stupid little brother got all the attention. She just wanted a day with Mummy, but then Daddy  _ had to go to work _ and baby Jean had to come, too. Then, Selena didn’t get Mummy to herself like Mummy and Daddy had promised, and Jean got a new teddy while she only got stickers!! What was the point in coming to the fair and winning the shooty game when Jean got the toy she won!! It was so unfair!!

So while Mummy had been distracted with Stupid Jean, Selena had snuck off to the playground to mope. She glared at the stickers in her hands, little cats and doggies in pajamas and blankies. She didn’t even want stickers! 

  
  


* * *

** _“A young girl, jealous of her brother. It’s almost too easy…._ **

** _Fly, my little Akuma, and evilize her!”_ **

* * *

While she sulked, young Selena didn’t notice the dark purple butterfly fluttering around her. Finally, it landed on and sunk into her new sticker sheet. The glowing outline of a stylized butterfly appeared like a mask over her eyes, and her face grew dark.

** _“Attencia..”_ **

  
  


* * *

  
  


When Kenshin first laid eyes on the villain, his first impression of them was  _ “That child is dressed very strangely.”  _ His second was  _ “Most children can’t throw cars,”  _ as he leapt from support beam to support beam to get the ground below the tower and pull a startled teen out of it’s way. He managed to avoid it just in time for the car to crush part of the metal behind him. The little girl, as he could now see she was, was dressed in a neon pink dress, and she held a colorful book of stickers in her hands. Her hair was a vibrant blue, her skin a pale purple, and she laughed as she placed stickers on people and things alike. The people she placed stickers on froze and became zombie like minions she could direct to her will. The objects; cars, statues, debri, floated around her until she pointed at something she wanted to destroy. Then, one object would follow her finger and rush at high speeds from the air to impact loudly with her surroundings. One such impact caused some unsettled black...goo to impact across Kenshin’s face. It wasn’t tar, and it dried quickly, but it cost him valuable seconds as he was forced to rub it from his eyes.

Her odd zombie-minions held people so she could place stickers on them, and Kenshin realized belatedly that perhaps he should move before they grabbed him. Kneeling to pick up the young woman he’d pushed over, he jumped over the heads of the zombies and landed behind them; beginning to run away. He fell into a large mass of people running from the fight. He put the girl down, who thanked him in rushed French, and let the people around him push him out of the crowd when she had left his sight.

Kenshin turned back to the fight behind him. Ladybug was agile and small, allowing her to easily dodge the projectiles coming after her. Chat was attempting to get close enough to grab her sticker book it seemed, but the minions of the small Akuma kept him away. There was an obvious struggle in the young man’s face; conflict because he couldn’t hurt the civilians even if they were also technically akumatised. Kenshin remembered the sword across his back, and, feeling rather stupid, moved in to help.

He did not unsheath it, but the weapon definitely helped keep them off Chat Noir’s back while he advanced on the child and her sticker book. The young man immediately noticed the lack of people from behind, and turned to see what was holding them up. He seemed ready to protest a civilian's intervention, but Kenshin gave him a look that clearly said he would not be leaving them until they got the akuma. A few shouted words in french, likely telling him to get out of the area, and Chat focused on the main problem.

Kenshin turned back to the horde and carefully did not break any bones, although they would likely be healed by the rumoured “lucky charm” that Ladybug had. Whatever that may be. Regardless, there were many of them, and Kenshin made mistakes. There were a few cringe-worthy crunches, but Kenshin was careful enough that it was mostly fingers and nothing near vital organs. Every zombie got back up again; although he was starting to wish he could keep them down more permanently just to get some of them off his own back. He struck a particularly ambitious minion across the back of their head, knocking them out.

Kenshin gazed down at their body for a moment, before praying to the ancestors that they weren’t concussed or dead and moving on. 

Thankfully, there were fewer zombies than there had been. Ladybug had managed to restrain them with an odd contraption consisting of a hose, a traffic cone, Chat’s belt/tail, two signs, a trash can and a fire hydrant.

Well. He’d seen stranger.

Meanwhile, Chat had gotten the sticker book, but was surrounded by zombie minions who had gotten too close for him to do anything safely. Thinking fast, Kenshin drew his sword for the first time in the fight. The sing of metal drew everyone’s attention, but Kenshin was already gone. He’d darted forward, around zombies restrained at the last second by Ladybug’s yoyo, and through the crowd surrounding the cat themed hero. Moving so quick his blade was near invisible, he sliced the wretched book in half, eager to stop the child from using any more of the stickers.

Immediately, the people around him were enveloped in dark purple bubbles. They returned to their normal selves, and Kensin nearly missed the butterfly trying to make its way out of the chaos. He thought it unrelated, if really strange, until the red and black Yoyo of Ladybug darted forward and snapped it up.

“Viens ici, petite Akuma!” The superheroine grabbed the yoyo from the air. Safely in her hands, she turned it face up and tapped the surface, which glowed for a moment before opening to reveal a pure white butterfly. “Au revoir, Petite Papillion.” she said, waving as it fluttered away.

Kenshin was too busy watching the butterfly fly away to notice what she did next, but soon he was swarmed by glowing pink ladybugs that went about fixing every bit of damage that the akuma had done. Things and even people returned to their rightful state. A crying mother came to envelop the ex-akuma in a crushing hug.

Kenshin smiled.

“Excuse moi.” A young voice said from behind him. Kenshin turned to see Chat Noir, who staring at him speculatively.

“Oro, sorry,” Kenshin said in English, “My French is not very good.”

The young hero (and he was  _ very _ young, wasn’t he. It only became more obvious the longer Kenshin looked at him.) looked understandably startled for a moment, before he seamlessly switched to English himself. “Ah, I apologize. I came to ask who you are. Are you a hero from farther north, perhaps? I thought they didn’t have many heroes up there.” 

“I am not a hero,” Kenshin replied, now distracted by the concerning train of thought he’d departed on.  _ ‘How young exactly is this boy? Surely too young to be defending an entire city.’  _ “I am a teacher.”

“A teacher..” The boy trailed off, skeptical. He looked back to the civilians being checked for concussions and broken bones as they speak. One of their quirks acted up as a EMT tapped a bruise and he poor physician was thrown a few feet away by a blast of light. “Who can do that? I figured... because of the mask..”

“Well, I wasn’t always a teacher.” Kenshin said with a small amount or humour. He felt awfully old, looking at this...child more willing to sacrifice himself for his city than all the adults here. But how long would it be until a mother and father wouldn’t get their little boy back? How long until a villain took this kid up on the challenge? Kenshin’s years of caring for the Greens and their children have him a parental streak a mile wide, it seems, because now even strangers were falling under his protective eye.

Ah, and as the boy had pointed out, he was looking forward to washing this flakey black ‘mask’ off his face.

“Speaking of teachers,” Kenshin continued, “You need someone to teach you to use that staff. You are flexible and quick. Obviously, you are skilled in fencing, however, you are using a bo-staff, not a sword. I have to ask that you change weapons or get a teacher before you get yourself killed.” It was unusually abrupt of him, admittedly, but he was more scared this child would get hurt than he was for conserving the boy’s feelings.

“I-” The kid puffed up, but Kenshin stared him down, and he backed off. Kenshin could definitely see his youth, the longer he looked at him. Most reports said he was in his twenties  _ at the youngest. _ How had anyone missed the unsure line of his shoulders? The awkwardness in his gait? “..You could tell?” He seemed prepared for a lecture on his lack of perfect technique. Kenshin knew what is was like to be there.

“I have been practicing Martial Arts longer than you’ve been alive.” Kenshin smiled. “Why are you two the only heroes here? Surely you had mentors..?”

Chat shrugged, extending his staff as something began to beep. “Not really. Heroes everywhere else? They don’t fight magic, sir.” He paused for a moment, before looking at his feet. “..Thanks for the advice. And he help.” And he was gone.

Kenshin look after the boy leaping jovially across the rooftops and sighed as he was joined by the equally young Ladybug, seeming to trip as she begins to talk to him. “Someone get that boy a sandwich.”

* * *

There were several reasons why Kenshin was in France. First of all, a promise to his friend. Second, mild curiosity. And finally, Suits and their producers. 

Long ago, Henry had bought him a tan suit made by Sebastian Agreste, a French designer who’d begun to make a name for himself in the aftermath of the Second World War. Since then the ‘Himura Family’ has been a regular, well-treated customer of the Agreste brand. Every year for the past eighty, especially after the quirk wars, Kenshin had received an invitation under his various aliases to a ‘new’ gala of the most valued customers and shareholders of Agreste Inc.’s numerous child companies, along with the main brand itself. He held a small share; mostly because Sebastian had been a good friend at one point, but he never really contributed more than the occasional ‘yes go with that model,’ or ‘oh look, here’s some money, go donate it.’

This year, it was held in France by the esteemed  _ Gabriel  _ Agreste, who had launched the brand from simply European-based, to world-wide success. Since Kenshin had been planning to visit the country, he figured he might as well attend the Gala while he was in town. It wasn’t often a Professor got to bump elbows with the rich and famous designers of equally famous brands. Henry would be quite mad at him for avoiding it when he was in the city it was held at, having been one picky dresser himself.

There was now the problem, however, with the suit he had planned to wear. It was stained with blood, ripped in two places, and a size too large. This was the very suit he’d worn when pushing a student out of the way of a car, sending his physical age and physique back a few years and requiring him to restart his fitness routine. A pity, on all accounts. This suit had been one of his favorites. So that was the bad news. Good news, however, he was in the very city these were made.

So he sent one more longing glance at the dark blue suit in his hands before placing it in the garbage can by the hotel room’s table, and hurries to the bus stop on the street to begin his trip to the Agreste location nearby. It takes some wandering, a halting conversation with two women dressed in bright, fluorescent colors, and Google Maps to find his way.

The storefront itself is actually rather plain. It was white, where there wasn’t windows, and the accents were black and gold. The logo above the door, simply an ‘A’ in a cursive font and a circle, and ‘Agreste’ below it in gold. It stood out in its comparative opulence. The large windows held dark and colourful, bright suits alike, in both men and women’s. There were also dresses, casual wear, skirts, couture and jewelry. It was slightly overwhelming. Nonetheless, Kenshin glanced at their hours to assure they were open, before stepping through the (ha) french doors and into the store proper. A bell rang as he entered, and a young woman with curly brown hair and dark skin smiled at him politely.

“ _ Bonjour _ ,” she said, “Welcome to  _ Agreste. _ What can I help you with today?”

Kenshin sighs in relief as she begins speaking English. “I have an event this week I was planning on attending, but the suit I had been planning on wearing was...damaged on the trip over.” She looked him up and down, from his slightly messy red hair and purple eyes, to his casual clothing and lack of designer labels. She looks back up at his face, an eyebrow raised.

“Ah...can you afford this store, sir? I don’t mean to be rude! But your cheapest suits are nearly four hundred euro…” She seems embarrassed at her own gall. Kenshin glances at her barely-started coffee and smiles kindly, taking no offence. 

“That will be no problem. I am a shareholder in the company; and even if I was not I have plenty of funds.” Kenshin reached for his back pocket, taking out his wallet. “Is there any way I could get it fitted today?”

“T-today?” her eyes are wide. “Ah, I can check the book..?”

“It’s no trouble,” he insisted, but she moves to go check anyway. As she flips through the pages to the correct date, “What was your name, sir?”

“Kenshin Himura,” he says immediately, without really registering the question. He blinks. 

“...Himura?” She says, slightly shrill. He nods, slowly. She exhales heavily and takes out her phone. She dials a number quickly, seemingly without pausing to remember it, and immediately hops on the line. “ _ Bonjour? Oui, ces’t Irene. l'un des actionnaires a besoin d'un costume immédiatement. Non, je ne pense pas-” _

Kenshin turns away, tuning her out. He can’t understand her when she is talking so fast, and he has no interest in eavesdropping. His French was, after all, not nearly good enough to justify even trying. While she talks into the phone, he browses. There are blue suits he likes quite a lot, although not another of the one he’d intended to wear. It was last year’s collection, however, so it makes sense that it no longer on the floor. He briefly considers buying one of the bright red ones; and the white one with a pink jacket was bribing him with his second favorite colour and an interesting lapel. His browsing is interrupted by the woman ending her phone call and rushing to attend him.

“I apologise, sir! A fitter will be with you once you finish selecting a suit.” She was tense, now, and Kenshin realized if he had left without buying anything, she likely would have been fired. “Can I help you look?”

Kenshin glances at the pink suit, but decides. “I’ll take something a little traditional; I’m a bit old fashioned.”

“Ah, what colors do you prefer?” She asks, guiding him to the dark navys and blacks in the back of the floor. What follows is a long, winding conversation about preferred fit, size, color, pattern, undershirt, vest-or-no-vest, and shoes to go with it. He finally ends up with a slim-fit dark navy suit with a light-blue, hand embroidered rose pattern along the lapel. The same pattern is also sewn into the dark blue tie he selects to go with it. Satisfied, he chats with the kind woman, Irene, and goes about picking a pair of shoes to go with his new suit. He’s just chosen a dark brown pair when the bell above the door gently chimes. 

In walks a tall, blonde haired man and a young boy, likely his son. The man wears a tailored white suit with a red undershirt; an elegant butterfly pin replaces a tie. His son wears a casual-but still designer- outfit, jeans, a black shirt, and a white button-up on top. The man, sharp red glasses and all, looks around the store and spots Kenshin. He immediately walks over. Irene is frozen in place beside him.

The boy seems eerily familiar, and Kenshin tilts his head.

“Hello,” the man says as he walks up, English flawless. “I am Gabriel Agreste. This is my son, Adrien. I was told that a shareholder is here?”

“That would be me,” Kenshin greets. He holds out a hand. “Kenshin Himura. I was actually getting a suit for the gala tonight.” He lifts the dark blue jacket thrown over his arm.

“I see.” Gabriel says, polite if disinterested. “And is there...proof..that you are indeed the Kenshin Himura that holds shares in my company?”

“Oro,” Kenshin blinks. “I have my ID and the invitation to the Gala tonight?” Gabriel nods, and Kenshin reached into his bag, a small satchel, to retrieve his wallet and the envelope with his invite in it. The Hotel had said no valuables should be left there, after all. “Here you go,” He smiles, handing it to the blonde man and holding his ID up for comparison.

Gabriel stares at the invite, and then glances up at Kenshin and he jeans-t-shirt combo. “I see that the last suit you ordered hasn’t made it with you?”

“Oro, I apologize,” Kenshin smiles, “I’m afraid it was quite ruined, not to mention out of season.”

“Ruined?” the boy asked himself. Gabriel didn’t ask any questions, simply nodding and taking the suit from Irene’s arms.

“I’ll be seeing you at the Gala tonight, then.” It wasn’t a question. “Irene, perhaps you can tempt Mr. Himura to view our casual-clothing selection?” The woman stuttered out her assurances, but as Gabriel turned around, his son stayed put, eyes on Kenshin.

“Adrien.” Gabriel prompted. This was also not a question. 

“You were saying I need to learn how the company works, Father.” The boy says. “Shouldn’t I stay here to assure Mr. Himura’s satisfaction?”

Gabriel looked at his son, and then glanced at his assistant, a stern-looking young woman with two red streaks in her hair. She glances down at her tablet, clicks a few things, then looks back up an nods. He looks back at the shaking Irene and seems to come to a decision. 

“It seems you have nothing else for the day.” Gabriel allowed. “Gorilla will be here to pick you up in two hours. Mr. Himura will leave here with the best quality suit we can offer, I assume?”

“Yes, Father.” 

And with that, the tall, intimidating owner of Agreste left the shoppe and stepped into a white limo. The assistant nodded at the broad man who had opened the door for them, and they were soon joining everyday Parisian traffic and disappearing into the streets.

Adrien sighed in relief.

“Uh, Mr. Himura,” Irene, started. “I’ll call one of the tailors then?”

“If you don’t mind, terribly.” Kenshin smiles. She flees, looking for somewhere to catch her breath most likely, and then, Kenshin is left with the young, blonde boy who looks at him with something like suspicion.

“How did you ruin the suit?” He asks. Kenshin blinks. “Those suits were made with crazy Americans like Iron Man in mind. They’re supposed to be nigh-unruinable. What did you do with it?”

“I got hit by a car.” Kenshin says, “And unfortunately stabbed.”

“At the same time?” The boy says incredulously. The nagging feeling that Kenshin knows this boy returns.

“Yes.” Kenshin laughs, “A quirk, you see. She felt very bad about it.”

“What’s your quirk, then?” Adrien asks. “Do we need to make allowances in the suit to accommodate anything?” Although he had definitely made up the excuse to get away from his father, the boy was treating the whole thing seriously. How exceedingly admirable and clever. 

“Nothing like that,” Kenshin smiles. “I can heal very quickly.”

“Like from getting stabbed and then hit by a car?”

“Precisely!”

The boy tilts his head the other way, and it suddenly hits Kenshin where he knows him from.

This boy is on several billboards around the city! 

“You are a model, I understand?” Adrien nods. “What is your quirk then?”

“My clothes are always my size, and I can change other peoples’,” Adrien admits. “It’s part of the reason I offered to stay. My father’s is more useful. He can make any clothes he thinks about just by holding fabric. It will even change color.”

Kenshin smiles at him. “I think you quirk is very useful! And you have certainly come to my rescue, now that I won’t have to sit with a tailor for several hours.” Adrien looks startled, and looks at him more closely. “Not used to that response, I assume?”

“Most people just say that it’s a shame I didn’t get my mother’s,” Adrien admits. “She could shapeshift.”

“Oro,” Kenshin laughs, “Then you did get the short end of the stick. I’ve always wished I could simply turn into a Cat.”

The boy looks more startled, but laughs too.

* * *

  
  


It wasn’t long before Kenshin was fitted into the  _ new _ nigh-unruinable suit. Same pattern, and the suit itself looked nearly identical to the one he’d selected on the floor, but Adrien had insisted he wear the ones designed with Superheroes in mind, a smile on his face and a glint in his eye. Irene hovered in the background, but she was eventually drawn back into a comfortable conversation when Adrien assured her he wouldn't tell his father that she dared to talk to him if she could tell him about the patches on he bag behind the counter.

Kenshin hadn’t had such good conversation since he’d left London, and was happy to hear the ideas and thoughts of a new generation. Kenshin, being as old as he was, was not necessarily up with the times in some ways; Adrien had been appalled he hadn’t heard of Ultimate Mega Strike and truly came out of his shell to rant about his friend’s skill in it to the amused old man.

Not that he looked that old, right now, or ever really. Damn Banilla. He’d never even found a grey hair, although he had certainly looked. And hoped. And perhaps purchased bleach to make himself feel better even if he never ended up using it.

When he was fitted and done, and dressed in his normal clothes, Irene began checking him out. It, unsurprisingly, came out to about €1300. Adrien made small talk with him while the card reader malfunctioned, and soon he was outside the storefront.

“It was nice meeting you, Adrien,” Kenshin said. “I’ll be seeing you at the Gala, yes?”

“Mhmm,” Adrien smiled, “Father said I could bring some friends. Maybe you should talk to Alya about the article you were in. She might know it!”

“I’ll do that,” Kenshin laughed. “Goodbye, Irene, Adrien. I’m afraid I have a bus to catch, now.”

“Bye, Mr. Himura.” Adrien waved. Irene smiled from the doorway.

Kenshin waved back, and started making his way down the busy street. What a nice boy.


	2. In Which an Old Man Attends A Party And Escapes A Limpet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette finds herself suspicious, Kenshin finally attends the Gala we've been hearing so much about, and Alya is the true hero of this chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to chapter two! Disclaimer: not all Americans are assholes, I actually think I'm rather nice, but the woman in this story is a rare species known as a Karen and should be avoided at all costs. They can be identified by the bleach-blonde patterning in dark hair, aversion to Managers, and their hoards of entitled children. 
> 
> You have been warned.

**Paris, France, June Tenth, 2286**

  
  


Marinette didn’t trust easily. Not since she became Ladybug, anyway. There was every chance that any stranger she talked to could be Hawkmoth! She’d had not a single glance at her nemesis, and had no idea if they were man, woman, or other; tall or short? She had no idea. It is for this reason that Marinette, as ladybug, calls Chat a few hours before the Gala.

The yo-yo in her hand rang, echoing in her quiet room. It took a bit longer than usual, but it was only a few moments before Chat Noir picked up.

“Yes, m’lady?” He purred, “_Feline_ lonely?”

“Chat.” She scolded, halfheartedly. She knew that if she genuinely minded his flirting, he’d stop immediately. “That man earlier today, did you find out anything about him before we had to leave?”

“Not really,” Chat said after a pause. “But I saw him in my civilian identity and talked with him for a few hours.”

“A few  _ hours?” _

“I was helping him shop at my family's store.” He said easily, “He was very polite and friendly.”

“But what did you find out?” Ladybug reminded. “Master Fu said he didn’t know him, and that he almost definitely didn’t have a Kwami or Miraculous.” That scared her a bit, honestly. Quirks had been common for  _ centuries, _ but powerful ones didn’t often appear in France. Occasionally they would get someone with super-strength, like her father, but Master Fu said powerful Quirks weren’t common in places with powerful magic. Like France, where  _ all the miraculousi were. _

“He’s a teacher,” Chat started. “For English and Japanese; sometimes history. He’s from Japan, lived in England for a long time, and is heading back to Japan right now. He’s only here for the Gala tonight.”

“The Agreste Gala? For the shareholders?”  _ The one I’m going to?  _ “Does he have a Quirk?”

“Yeah. He’s got like, a forty percent share in the company.” Chat agreed. “As for Quirk, nothing super special. It’s like, really fast healing? The whole ‘nyoom, bam, pow, ninja' thing is all him.” There was a pause. “He said that he’d been practicing Martial Arts longer than I’d been alive. And when we were talking, later, he mentioned Cats a few times. Like, really obviously.”

“You think he  _ knows?”  _ Marinette was panicking. If this guy knew who Chat was, he may know where Master Fu is, or where her family is! This was bad.

“I don’t know, but he might. Honestly, he doesn’t seem like the evil mastermind sort, though.”

“If he seemed like it, he wouldn’t be a mastermind.” Marinette explained. “Thanks  _ chaton.  _ I’ll keep an eye on him at the Gala.”

“Wait, you’re going to-” But Marinette had already hung up. Her mind was racing. If she could get close to the guy, maybe she could find out if he knew Hawkmoth. Or, if he  _ was _ Hawkmoth. It was the only way to know for sure.

Marinette released her transformation, and her long, dark blue gown fell around her ankles again. Tiki settled on her shoulders, and the both looked at her palm, where the yo-yo had once been. She let her hands fall to her sides, still looking at the ground and thinking hard.

“You think he knows?” Tiki asked in her gentle voice. Marinette shook her head.

“I don’t know, Tiki. There’s really only one way to find out.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


**Paris, France, June Tenth, 2286. Chateau de Versaille**

  
  
  


Kenshin, now dressed in his flowery suit, stood among the party go-ers in a bit of an awkward silence. It was difficult to fit in among the rich and famous; he’d grown up in poverty, after all, under the harsh hand and eye of his Shishio. And even though he’d never accepted the cloak from his master, long since dead (although not from Kenshin’s sword, as the old man had intended), sometimes he wished to have something as grounding as a weighted cloak to keep him present. 

Someone bumped into him from behind. “Oro, excuse me!” He said, turning. Before him, also startled, was a woman with bright blonde hair. She wore a dark dress, contrasting reds, and a black shawl and pumps. Her makeup was flawless and not a hair was out of place. And, Kenshin was chagrined to see, she was nearly as tall as him.

“I apologize,” The woman said in accented english. “I wasn’t looking. You are?” She offered a hand, gloved in a perfectly matched black silk. He took it, and mimed a kiss to the back like Henry had explained to him many years ago.

“Ah, Kenshin Himura.” He said, smiling, “What may I call you?”

“Audrey Bourgeois.” She said. A smile appeared on her face for the first time. “I’m sure we’ll get along  _ swimmingly _ .”

“Oro?”

Veronica ran from counter to counter, rushing to prepare food and send it out as the waiters came back in groups to get more food. The other chefs hadn’t expected such a busy night, evidently, because they’d left around an hour ago. In their defense, the party had been very quiet around that time and Veronica thought she’d be enough to manage it until someone else could come in and take over.

That had, unfortunately, not been the case. 

The party picked up quickly and suddenly. In a moment of silence she’d called some of her coworkers for help, but none of them had responded. She’d been running around the kitchen putting together finger food and even full roasts for the rich and famous patrons of the hall that night. 

She had, at first, had several plates to fall back on, but it seemed it was hungry work being rich and the waiters soon returned, asking for more.

It was maddening.

Veronica was just placing the finishing touches on some fresh sweets when a loud and angry woman stomped through the door. She wore the latest fashions; obviously marking her as one of the attendees.

“Where is the Chef! I demand to speak to them!”

“Ah, Ma’am,” She said, turning fully from her work. “You’re not allowed back here.”

“Are you the Chef?” The woman demanded in a shrill voice, completely ignoring Victoria’s words. “I need to speak with you!”

“Ma’am-”

“How dare you serve such filth!” The woman continued. “I asked specifically for things without nuts-and it seems you’ve made everything to contain those specifically!”

Veronica prayed for some patience. “Have you tried the sea-food options? Or perhaps the selection of hypo-allergenic desserts provided at the tables?”

“I don’t have time for that!” The woman shrieked. “I come all the way here from America for this dumb Gala. I asked one of the waitstaff for something  _ good _ ; and he tells me to get it myself!”

“Ma’am.” Veronica decided it was time to end this now. “The waiters and waitresses here are her only to serve drinks and resupply the tables. You  _ are _ supposed to get your own food.”

The woman turned bright red with anger. “How uncivilized! And how dare you speak to me that way!”

“You’re not allowed back here.” Veronica said firmly. “Remove yourself from the kitchen or I’ll call security to help you find the door.”

“How-” The woman’s face twisted up in rage._ “Ugh!”_

At that moment, one of the chefs walked in. Olivia, her savior, a sweet, dark haired girl with a cloning Quirk who, according to a message Veronica sees with a glance at her phone, has agreed to come on her off day and help out. “Veronica, I got-oh? Is everything okay?”

“It is not!” The woman says angrily. She stomps over to Olivia who looks about ready to rescind her favor already. “Are  _ you _ responsible for this mess?”

“Mess?” Olivia asks nervously. “Ma’am, I have no-”

A slap rings throughout the kitchen, the aggressive American woman having smacked poor Olivia across the face. Veronica immediately restrains her, pulling out her company-issued walkie-talkie and calling for security. “How dare you!” She growls, but the damage had already been done.

Olivia’s eyes well with tears, and her hand comes up to feel the long, painful looking scratch on her cheek from the woman’s ruby ring. “W-wha-?” She sniffles. “I’m sorry?”

Veronica winces, gripping the woman’s arm tighter even as she hears security stomping down the hall. “Don’t apologize-”

“I deserve an apology!” The woman interrupts. “It was obviously a failure of your staff to provide! How dare you stand up for her!”

“How dare  _ you,” _ Veronica repeats. Security comes through the doorway, consequently shoving poor Olivia out of the way, and as the shrieking woman is hauled away, she’s disappeared.

  
  
  


* * *

**“Confused, and frightened. One of my favorite combinations. Fly, my little Akuma, and Evilize her!”**

* * *

  
  


Olivia’s work shoes smacked against the tile as she ran down the marble hallways from the kitchen. What did she do? She only came to help a friend! She halts by a pillar that will hide her from view of the kitchen door and the entrance to the Ballroom. Tears continue to stream down her face, keeping her from seeing the butterfly land in the little Ditto barrette in her hair.

* * *

  
  


“Nathalie,” Gabriel says as he steps out of the limo and onto the steps leading to the opulent party. “I suggest you and Gorilla have a night off.”

“Do you have an  _ event  _ planned, sir?” 

“In a way.” Gabriel agrees, straightening his suit jacket. “I believe I’ve found another Miraculous.”

“I see.” Nathalie doesn’t even blink, simply patting the peacock brooch on her own suit. “I have informed you I don’t need coddled?”

  
  


“You have,” Gabriel smiles, “I simply did not listen.” A loud crash sounds from inside, and the screaming commences. The smile gets slightly wider. “Adieu, Nathalie. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

* * *

  
  


Adrien had actually been having a great time, for once, enjoying the fancy party with the company of not only Nino, but also Marinette and Alya! It was a lot more fun to come to these things when his friends were there to make fun of it with him. Marinette in particular was finding great joy in pointing out those who were wearing his Father’s lines, and those who were wearing knock-offs or different brands entirely. 

Most of them, she’d said as they watched a man’s pant-leg tear, inferior to the quality his father demanded.

“Alya, you’re going to get sick,” Marinette exclaims later. Alya ignores her, and picks up another creampuff. “You’ve eaten so many!”

“These are delicious,” Alya moans, “And you can pry them from my cold, dead hands.”

“We won’t have to if you keep eating them.” Nino laughs. “I think you’re going to explode.”

“Not all over my new suit!” Adrien cries sarcastically. They all begin giggling, and Nino manages to fall over, encouraging another bought of laughter.

“Ah,” Nino says, wiping his eyes and settling back in his chair. “This is actually pretty great, man. I thought this would be way more boring based on your descriptions.”

“Well,” Adrien shrugs. “You guys are more entertaining than the other models.”

“Rude,” Alya says, “But I can see what you mean. Look at that poor guy over there!” She points with a creampuff to a short, although attractive red-haired man who seems to be the newest victim of Chloe’s mom.

Adrien winces. “Poor Mr. Himura.”

“You know him,” Nino asked, watching the interaction with a raised eyebrow. He snorts as Chloe’s mom gives an exaggerated laugh, closing her eyes and placing a hand on “Mr. Himura’s” arm, only for the man to look more like he was about to bolt. “Poor guy, indeed.”

Adrien smacked him lightly. “He’s actually really nice. I helped him get that suit tailored earlier today and he helped me with some of my English and Japanese. He even gave me fencing advice and showed me how to flip someone with my hip!”

“How’d he do that while you were tailoring a suit to him?” Marinette says, voice and face filled with confusion.

“Quirk,” Adrien shrugs and waves a hand, “We were basically done in ten minutes and I wanted to keep talking to him. He’s really cool; and I might see him more, since he’s a shareholder, n’all.”

“‘N’all’.” Nino repeats, nodding. “I’ve infected you.”

  
“And everyone else.” Alya snickers. She popped the last puff into her mouth and stands. She covers her mouth with a hand, and nods at Mr. Himura, who was now trying to politely extract his arm from the inebriated grasp of Mrs. Bourgeois. “‘M ‘oing to save hm.” She says through a mouth full of food, and indeed, began walking towards the poor man.

“Ah,” Adrien winced. “Well, you’ve all been banned. Sorry.”

Nino pushed him out of his chair.

* * *

  
  


“Ah, M-mrs. Bourgeois,” Kenshin stutters, “I am not-”

“Oh, call me Audrey,” She purred, flipping her hair over he shoulder and clinging more tightly to his arm. His face grows more red. Even people in clubs weren’t this persistent. Hell, if you’ll excuse his French, Kenshin doesn’t even remember that Loki chap being this persistent. “I must ask, Kenshin, how did you acquire such a,” she runs a finger up his lapel and he swallows nervously, “ _ lovely _ suit?”

“Oro, I..uh, I really must ask-”

“Mr. Himura!” A young voice calls. Both Kenshin and his limpet turn to see a young woman, maybe fourteen at the oldest, push her way through the crowd and towards them.

Kenshin has never seen her before, and wonders how she knows his name.

“Mr. Himura!” She says again when she’s close enough to talk at a normal tone. Her English is very good. “I’m Alya Cesaire. You were talking to my father about Japanese lessons last week?”

“Oro,” Kenshin blinks. He never talked to-oh. _OH_. He smiles, and winks out of view of the... persistent Mrs. Bourgeois. “Ah, yes! How is he?”

“Good,” The girl smiles. “He actually wanted to talk to you, if you have a moment? We wanted to set up an actual time, you see…”

“Oh, of course!” He turns back to Mrs. Bourgeois, who is looking confused and put out. “If you don’t mind excusing me, Mademoiselle?” 

“Of course,” the woman grumbles. “Let’s talk again, soon.” And, finally, she releases his poor arm and disappears back into the crowd from whence she came.

Kenshin sighs in relief.

“So.” Alya says. “How do you like creampuffs?”

“Huh-?”

“AKUMA,” a voice screams from across the hall. 

Immediately, there is pandemonium. People rush away from the shout, more people picking up the scream and repeating it to their stunned friends; ushering the drunk or startled away from the woman slowly floating up from the ground.

The woman has white hair and blue skin. She wears what looks like a chef’s uniform, glided in gold, and a bright gold circlet rests on her head with a bright green gem in the centerpiece over her forehead. She wields a large spoon like a scepter.

“I am Qulinariqueen! And no one will question me, again!” She points her scepter-spoon at a man, sprawled on the ground, and shoots a beam of sparkling mist at him. He screams, lifting his arms in defense, but it hits him and the ensuing explosion nearly deafens those around. When he looks back, Kenshin’s eyes widen. Where there once was a man, there now was what looked to be a pile of food and a crater where he once stood. “No one can Question good food!”

_“Fuu-”_ Kenshin hisses. He grabs the young woman who’d saved  _ him _ and books it in the direction of the main door. 

“What are you doing?” She yells.

“Saving your life!” He says back. He pulls her into a bridal carry and jumps over a clump of people’s heads, landing on a table. He leaps off, free of the thickest crowds, and begins running again. Not too far. “Are you here with anyone?”

“My friends!” She says. “I don’t know where they are!”

“I’ll set you by the door.” He decides. “Stay outside, and you can look for them as people come out.”

“What about you?!”

“I am going to  _ get _ people out.” He sets her down near the doors, and she hesitates. He is about to urge her forward when a young man in glasses and a dark orange suit hugs her. “Alya!” he shouts before grabbing her arm and pulling her away. It is safe to say, one of her friends found her.

The screams continue.

“Is this as common as it seems?” He mutters to himself.

“You!” A girls voice says. He turns slightly and sees Ladybug, thankfully ready for action. “Did you have anything to do with this?”

“What-?”

“It’s not him, M’lady.” On his other side, the young man, Chat Noir, has appeared. “I was watching him the whole time. He did nothing except try to politely tell Queen Bee’s Mom to leave off.”

Kenshi was feeling out of his depth. Queen Bee? Was that another hero?

Ladybug narrowed her eyes at him, making an “I’m watching you” gesture as Chat Noir leaps into battle. Kenshin blinks.  What did he do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think :D
> 
> Come say Hi at our Discord: https://discord.gg/6fDn8Rv


	3. In Which an Old Man is Adopted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Fight continues!  
Coming up: Adrien is nervous, Marinette is fighty, and Kenshin is very confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the last chapter of FCMKBT, or Feral Cat. I actually really loved writing this story, and I'm so glad so many of you liked it :D. It makes me happy to know that so many people enjoy something I enjoyed making. 
> 
> So, Thank You! 
> 
> This story would be nothing without Llew, who helped me bring the main story in this series to life, or our friends on Discord who were nice enough to roast me when I didn't post for too long. I love you guys :).
> 
> If you're interested in joining our Discord, we'd love to have you! Both me and Llew are on every day, and we look forward to talking with you! https://discord.gg/6fDn8Rv

**Paris, France, June Tenth, 2286. Chateau de Versaille**

Kenshin blinks. What did he do? But as he wonders, the other superhero leaps into battle. Ladybug remains agile as ever; and as he watches the two of them begin taking down the ‘Akuma’ he realizes he may have _ two _ child-heroes on his hands.

Then, The Akuma’s eyes land on him, and she grins.

“Oro!” He cries, dodging quickly as she throws a blast at him. The pillar he’d been in front of dissolves under it, and where stones would have fallen, a few apples and grapes hit the ground.

“You!” She says gleefully, ignoring the superheroes. “Hawkmoth wants _ your _ miraculous, too!”

“My what?” Kenshin asks, but she sent a blast at him once again. “Nevermind!”

“Taking it will be a piece of cake!” She declared. “Then I can get the other two!” Qulinariqueen charges after him through the air, blasting every surface he lands on, sending food everywhere. By the time he arrives next to the two young heroes who’d challenged him earlier, he’s sweating.

“Oro,” He says to Chat, “I am too out of shape for this, that I am.”

“Aren’t you a ninja, or something?” The boy asks. Beside him, Ladybug snorts.

“Teacher,” Kenshin corrects, again, “I have not fought someone like this in...oh. Well, maybe not that out of shape.” A blast nearly hits him once more, and the old man leaps out of the way. 

Chat Noir and Ladybug begin attacking the woman, getting in cheap shots as she’s distracted tracking Kenshin. A blow to the hip, to the leg. Ladybug pulls her to the ground a few times, but the Akuma is unhurt and undeterred. Qulinariqueen hunt’s Kenshin with a single-minded drive, pushing tables and rubble out of the way, sending shots at him every chance she gets. It’s more of a workout than Kenshin has gotten in weeks.

But even as chicken bones and small pebbles hit him, his wounds seal up as they form. The aches in his joints ease slightly, and as Kenshin dodges another blast, he reminds himself to avoid popping his joints so much, this time. 

“We need to do something!” Chat says, knocking a rock into the way of a stray lazer. “He can’t keep this up forever, and neither can we.”

“Hmm.” Ladybug says. “Lucky Charm!”

She spins, then flings her yo-yo into the air. Lights fill the air, attracting the attention of the akuma, and Ladybug catches what falls.

“....A Katana?” She says incredulously. “Neither of can use this.” Chat’s eyes widen, and flick to the man making faces at the Akuma to attract it’s attention again.

“No,” Chat says, “but Mr. Himura can.” Ladybug’s face turns to him, eyebrows raised.

“You want me to hand him a _ sword? _” She says, voice shrill. Chat groans, holding out his hand to accept it.

“M’lady, he’s all we got!” Reluctance fills her eyes even as a surprised ‘Oro’ comes from across the room. “...Trust me.”

Marinette, although Chat doesn’t know it, is conflicted. She doesn’t trust Mr. Himura, but… The sword is placed gently in the black cat’s proverbial paws, and he’s gone in a flash. Ladybug, turns to look at the Akuma, looking for the object they need to destroy. Her eyes narrowed, and all hesitation left her. 

Even as the form of Mr. Himura glows with red and black, a new plan forms.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Mr. Himura,” Chat calls, “You might want this!” Kenshin dodges behind a pillar from the enthusiastic Akuma, and glances toward the voice. He looks up, searching, and he nearly steps back in surprise. Lifting a hand, he catches the sword just in time.

“Where-?” He begins. Qullinariqueen shrieks.

“Enough chit-chat!” The pillar explodes above his head, and Kenshin narrowly avoids being brained by a watermelon. “It’s time to get cooking!”

“We’ve been cooking!” Kenshin calls back, panicked, and the youthful laugh of Chat Noir follows him away from his hiding place. 

The sword, still in his hand, is quickly drawn from the sheath. He throws the scabbard to the side, and readies himself to strike with the revealed blade. He takes a glance, just to be sure, and the sakabatou gleams in the dimmed electric lights. Kenshin looks for an opening, anything. Qullinariqueen, for being a chef, also _ flies _ and manages to make it very difficult. But-there!

Kenshin leaps, almost too quick for the eye to see. He gets a good cut on her arm, aiming for the one holding the danger-spoon, but she does not drop it. He does it again and again, striking even as her wounds heal; almost as fast as his. She cackles, dodging his latest strike, and smacks him across the room.

He hits the wall hard, four ribs breaking in multiple places, and his head rings with a concussion for a moment. As he groans, attempting to pull himself out, the ringing stops and his ribs snap into place. He coughs, tasting blood, even as his punctured lung heals, too. Unlucky; he’ll be coughing up blood for at least the next hour.

“Your goose is truly cooked,” The Akuma giggles as she floats closer. “What’s your miraculous? Hawkmoth needs it!”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Kenshin yells, “That I do not!” 

Qullinariqueen snarls, hefting the large spoon with both her hands. Kenshin gets ready to leap from his personal crater in the wall and floor, when they are both distracted by Ladybug calling out. 

“Mr. Himura!” She shouts, running along the wall like gravity is optional. For bugs, he supposed it was. “The crown! What chef wears a crown?!”

Kenshin looks back to the Akuma, who takes a startled step back. Indeed, as he’d seen earlier, there was a small crown with a green gem in the center placed upon the girl’s head. She growls, hefting her spoon again, but Kenshin is long gone. He leaps from pillar to pillar, staying just out of sight. The adrenaline is pumping in his veins, and despite himself, Kenshin grins.

“GO FOR IT,” Chat Noir shouts, quickly wrapping the Akuma up in his tail. Ladybug does the same with her yo-yo, restraining her much like they did the Akuma this morning, and Kenshin takes his chance. Darting from his current pillar, he goes right over Quillinariqueen’s head. With a single, careful strike of the red-handled sakabatou, the crown falls to the ground in pieces. 

Immediately, most of the food on the ground is surrounded by purple foggy bubbles. People emerge from the cloud of mist, confused but none the worse for wear. A single purple butterfly flies right by Kenshin’s face, and is snapped up one again by Ladybug’s yo-yo. As she wishes it good-bye, Chat Noir walks over to him.

“If I learn kendo, will I be able to do that?” The boy laughs, gesturing to the pillars around them like his finger is leaping between. Kenshin grins, but then blinks. When did he tell this boy he practiced a type of Kendo?

_ “Is that a sword?” Adrien asked. Kenshin looked over, and sure enough, the boy was pointing at the black, fabric sheath of his sakabatou. _

_ “Oro,” Kenshin says, “Yes. But I normally don’t keep it in a Kendo wrap.” _

_ “Kendo?” The boy asks. He takes a few steps over, and Kenshin nods at him when he silently asks if he can pick it up. “What’s that?” _

_ “I suppose it’s a bit like your fencing.” Kenshin says. “But we start with wooden swords, and work our way up. That is a Sakabatou, a back-bladed sword. Most people would use katanas.” _

_ “Why don’t you?” _

_ “My...style of Kendo is destructive. I fought in the army,” not a lie, “a long time ago, and I swore to never kill again. I use a back-bladed sword to prevent myself from even having the chance.” _

Another blond boy settles over where Chat is in Kenshin’s vision, only as he blinks; only for a moment. But it is all Kenshin needs. “Adrien?” He whispers.

Cat-like green eyes widen, and even as the boy is obstructed from view by pink, glowing ladybugs, Kenshin can tell he’d been the only one to figure it out.

  
  


* * *

**Paris, France, June Tenth, 2286. Rooftop of Kenshin’s Hotel**

**Later that Night 5:21am (0521)**

Kenshin had tried to catch the two children after the last ladybug disappeared, but neither of them were anywhere to be seen. He’d caught a glimpse of Adrien as the night went on, but didn’t approach him. If Kenshin was the first to figure it out, that means that Adrien probably hadn’t told _ anyone. _

The old man sighed. Things had gotten so complicated. 

“So,” A young woman said from behind him. He turns, and comes face to face with the suspicious Ladybug. “You figured out Chat’s identity. After being in Paris. For a day.”

“Oro,” Kenshin said blankly. “I...suppose?”

“How,” She demands. “The magic in our masks is supposed to keep people from seeing our identities. Even _ video evidence _ of us changing back and forth is altered or deleted. How?”

“I, oro.” Kenshin doesn’t know, is the thing. It’s not that the boy had been _ bad _ at hiding his identity; Adrien Agreste was quiet, reserved, and polite. And while Chat Noir was also polite, he was flirty and outgoing. It was clear, to Kenshin, now, that Chat Noir was an escape for a very lonely boy. “I was not looking, that I was not.” He shrugs. “And I do not know how I figured it out.”

“..You weren’t looking.” She mutters. “Of course.” The young woman sighed, seemingly done being suspicious and tense. Her shoulders drop. “Thank you.”

“What?” Kenshin blinks. What did he do?

“For helping.” She clarifies. “Both times. And thank you for not telling anyone. Master-well. Our Master told us to never share our identities.”

“Not even with each other?” Kenshin asks. It’s her turn to blink. “I am sorry to presume, but it is rather obvious. While you trust your partner, you are so suspicious of everyone’s intentions. Even old men like me,” he chuckles briefly. “You don’t need to take it to heart...but perhaps telling the poor boy? It is obvious he’s been lonely for a very long time.”

“You won’t tell me?” She challenges. Kenshin smiles, and taps the side of his nose with a finger.

“That would be dishonest, little Ladybug.” He says lightheartedly. “You have to tell _ each other _.”

“Hm,” She says. “I’ll...I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I ask.” He says gently, and she swings off into the night.

  
  


* * *

The next morning, Kenshin comes back to his room after breakfast, and finds a young, blonde boy outside his door. Adrien looks up at the sound of his footsteps, and quickly stands.

“Ah, Mr. Himura!” He says nervously. “You-I mean. You didn’t say anything about...my cat right?” He shuffled, obviously nervous, and Kenshin takes a moment to despair the anxiety of foolish, teen heroes.

“Of course not.” Kenshin says. “Not even to your young Lady.” Adrien’s eyes widen.

“You’ve talked to Ma-” he practically shoves his hand into his mouth to prevent himself from finishing the name. Kenshin outright laughs this time, and steps around him to open the door.

“Yes, yes. I see she took my advice.” The door swings open, and Kenshin holds it for the young man, who steps inside and looks around. “I mentioned that it might be selfish to make you keep your identities away from each other, not to mention irresponsible. If one of you were to fall in the line of duty..”

Adrien shivvers. “I hope it doesn’t come to that, sir.”

“Hopefully, it will not.” Kenshin turns back to the young man and smiles. “But that is not what you’re here for, clearly. What do you need, Adrien?”

“I, uh,” He hesitates. Kenshin wishes he was more confident in his unsolicited parenting advice, and that Gabriel Agrest was in the vicinity. “I made a joke yesterday about Kendo,” The boy starts, “But I was serious. I’m sure I could talk my dad into letting me take a few classes, and...I know someone who can get me a sword for when I transform. What I’m asking is...do you have any advice?”

“Well,” Kenshin thinks for a moment. “I think my advice would be, ‘do not start Kendo.’”

“What?” Adrien is startled. “Why?”

“You are very good at fencing already.” Kenshin points out. “When I told you to find a weapon more suited to you, I meant get a rapier or a light sword you can fence with. If you think that what you are learning isn’t enough, I’m sure you could find some genuine sword-fighting classes somewhere.”

“Oh,” Chat blinks. “Then what was the whole,” He waves an arm around like he did with the pillars. “Bouncing thing.”

Kenshin chuckles. “You’re a superhero, Adrien,” He says fondly, “I’m sure you can figure out a way to jump around on walls.”

Adrien grins at him, obviously happy to have someone acknowledge his skill. Kenshin’s smile, while no less sincere, tightens slightly. _ ‘Where are you, Gabriel,’ _ He thinks, _ ‘I would like to speak with you.’ _

“Thank you,” Adrien says, “I really mean it, Mr. Himura.”

“It’s no problem, Adrien.” He rustles the boys hair, and smiles when he groans exaggeratedly. Kenshin sets the hand on Adrien’s shoulder to get his attention again. 

“My advice for you, Adrien,” Kenshin starts, “I think you don’t know your worth. You are a brave, kind, and skilled boy. And one day, you will be a great man. Remember, Adrien, to have confidence in yourself.”

Kenshin politely doesn’t notice when Adrien blinks away tears, and grunts in surprise when the usually timid young man wraps him in a tight hug.

“Mr. Himura?” Adrien mumbles into Kensin’s shirt. “Can I ask you for something else?”

* * *

**Paris, France, June Thirteenth, 2286. ** **Charles De Gaulle International Airport**

Kenshin settles into his seat, watching as more and more people got on the plane to Tokyo. He smiles, briefly, at a small child who peers over the armrest of his recliner. Ah, First-Class. He was lucky enough to splurge sometimes, and a flight home seemed well-worth it.

His phone, old and cobbled together like all before it, dings in his pocket. It was the first touch screen he’d gotten in sixty years, and he slides it open with a little glee. A notification in his messages prompts him to open the app, which immediately brings him to his so-far brief conversation with Adrien. He’d been convinced (read: extorted) into adding his and Miss Ladybug’s contacts into his phone, in case they needed help with something. 

Young Adrien confessed it was mostly just because he was one of two adults that knew he and his friend were superheroes. So, clearly, extortion. It was not fair how adorable the two of them were, puppy-dog eyes combined against him. He’d added their numbers, and left an open invitation to text him whenever they needed some advice. Indeed, young Adrien seems to have taken him up on it.

**Mochi-Noir:** I almost forgot! This is for you :D

Underneath the text, there was a small file. A blue ring wrapped all the way around it, telling Kenshin it was ready to open. Suspiciously, remembering all the strange _ meems _ the young Greens had sent him before, Kenshin does so.

Thankfully, it is not a meem. Within the file, Adrien had given him a silly picture he’d jokingly taken the night before Kenshin left. The old man had been summarily trapped between the two of them, and in between blinks of surprise Adrien had managed to take a picture of all of them. Miss Ladybug had giggled about the bunny-ears she’d given him for a full minute afterwards. 

Kenshin smiles at the photo, before sending a cat emoji and shutting off his phone. For once he was glad to have lived so long. After all, he would not have met such an extraordinary pair of children, anywhere else.

A good day to be alive, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> More to come! I'm aiming for three chapters but I'm still writing the ending scenes so it may be longer oof.
> 
> And just in case I couldn't bribe you with the first Note, https://discord.gg/6fDn8Rv . Come tell me what you thought :D


End file.
